What happened to that old real lyrical feel?
When Mc’s grabbed the mic just to polish they skills.
Stayed up half the night so the quality spills,
now they too engulfed in hype, so they polish they grills
and their spinning wheels, weak record deals, and weak rhymes.
All on prime time with two dollar hoes and lost dimes.
All these lost minds bouncing to flows of all kinds,
it’s a crime that they killing the art for false shine.
I remember when we traded blunt rhymes at lunch time,
then at crunch time, the illest punch lines would get shine.
That was the only way to prove you was nice,
and if your freestyles was tight, then they knew your written was twice.
But now they selling out for a price, and a slice of Hollywood life,
forgetting ‘bout the reason they write.
It used to be about the love for the art,
now they snub and depart from the way it was in the start.
There was always arrogance in the flow,
a narrow sense that would grow into calling Queens, ******* and hoes.
Now they talk about the brothers that they killed at the show,
not knowing that they teaching kids to kill on the low.
Subconsciously told that killing their own was their role,
while the famous rapper never even murdered a soul.
That’s why my heart turns cold when I hear trash on the air,
and the labels never care about the songs they prepare.
As long as the cheddar is there, you know the song gets played,
but it’s the rapper that gets played by the percentage he’s paid.
Over 30 million made off a brotha’s cd, but the brotha only sees
about a tenth of the cheese.
So you better believe that i’mma fight for hip hop,
and spit it nonstop ‘til the day that I drop.
Cause I’m the cream of the crop, but I don’t rock for the cream,
I rock it so that I can let my quality beam,
and penetrate the mind of at least one teen,
to show ‘em what can happen if you follow your dreams.
So if you feel like I feel, don’t support that “hip pop” vulture,
support the lesser known cat preserving hip hop culture.